Game of Queens
by jtav
Summary: A tiefling could never be a baroness, even if she's full of ideas on running a kingdom. Lady Jamandi has other plans.


Octavia's eyes widened as she took in the thick carpets and dark-paneled wood of the mansion. "I knew you were more than an alchemist, but I never guessed you were practically a noble."

"Hardly. My uncle is fourth cousin twice removed to Lady Olovsky and a physician to one of the Swordlords on the council. That barely makes me a lady." She looked around. Her uncle was in Mivon but the skeleton staff had obligingly stoked a fire in the front drawing room. The furniture was several years past stylish but well made and might as well have been from the royal palace compared to Oleg's trading post. Octavia and Linzi all but threw themselves into overstuffed chairs while Valerie stood erect by the fire. Tomorrow they would present the Stag Lord's makeshift crown to Lady Jamandi, but tonight they would rest and Munira would do what she could to ensure a good future for the Stolen Lands.

Linzi grinned. "Are you kidding? This is exactly how a noblewoman's drawing room should look. You already have a leg up on being a baroness."

Munira's lips thinned. "I told you before that I could never be baroness." Why Linzi had latched on to her as the heroine of her book was a mystery that she had never been able to solve. Her family gave her the barest color of nobility, but that same blood disqualified her. The scandal of a tiefling child had rendered her parents social pariahs. Cadet branches of the family had sued to be considered the rightful heirs and her mother and father had all but left her on her uncle's doorstep in an attempt to be rid of her. She had been safer and better-educated than most daemon-blooded children could dream of, but there were always limits.

"Why not?" Linzi's voice was pleading, as if the crown were no more than an extra dessert. "You've been in charge of the team ever since the attack in the mansion. You stopped Tartuccio! If anyone deserves to be baroness, then it's you."

"Because the world isn't about what we deserve. If I couldn't even get a university teaching position, then someone like me could certainly never be a ruler." That wound still rankled. The chancellor had of course been full of platitudes about the skill of her work and how they simply couldn't afford to pay her what she was worth, but Munira had known the truth. Better to take up adventuring then be the corpse-girl who would never quite fit in.

She cleared her throat. "But someone from this team will take ownership of the Shrike Hills. That's why I called you here. I think the best possible candidates are here in this room. We need to decide which of us it will be. I may not be fit to rule myself, but I know who in Rostland, Issia, and Restov that you'll need to keep on your good side. And I have a few requests of the future baroness."

The three of them looked at each other. and then at her. They had been so focused on Tartuccio and the Stag Lord that the future had never been discussed. Valerie wanted only to sere her liege. Linzi wanted a heroic tale for her book. Munira had hoped to have a hand in founding a new realm and then to please the Guardian of the Bloom. But now they had to consider something beyond their own goals and defeating a pair of petty villains.

Octavia burst out laughing. "Me, a baroness! I'd love to see the look on Maestro Janush's face if that happened." She forced herself into a facsimile of seriousness. "I don't think people would much care to be ruled by an ex-slave."

"Why not?" Munira perched on the edge if the divan so she could look Octavia in the eye. A coil of envy wound in her gut. Octavia was beautiful with her flowing tresses and delicate features. Not a pustule or sore in sight. She always had an easy smile for everyone. Everyone loved her. "Here's the heroine for your story, Linzi. Tales are full of kings and queens who rise from nothing. Octavia would have the people eating out of her hand in no time."

Valerie opened her mouth, closed it, and took a deep breath. "While many a ruler has begun with humble origins, their first duty is to uphold the law and punish malfeasance. With all due respect, Octavia would happily tear down every prison in the world."

"And who decides what's malfeasance and who deserves prison?"

Munira rubbed her temples. They weren't going to get sidetracked by a philosophical debate right now. "Octavia cares for the people. That's the most important thing about being a good baroness. Administering a realm and lawmaking can be taught." She pulled out a sheaf of paper and handed them to Octavia. "I already have some ideas on that score."

Octavia didn't take them. "Don't I get a say in this? I don't want to be baroness. There's too much protocol. And even if people would accept me, there's no way they would accept Reg. I'll be happy to help out whoever ends up in charge but it won't be me."

Munira sighed. She'd hoped Octavia would want the job. Maybe her hatred of anything that remotely resembled captivity was excessive, but she did have a good heart. And she would be the most likely person to give Munira what she wanted. "I see."

"Shouldn't the others be here anyway?" Linzi asked. "Lady Jamandi said that we were all supposed to decide as a group."

"Amiri and Reg wanted to go straight to the tavern. They'd be the first to tell you that they shouldn't be in charge of anything more complex than a raiding party. Harrim thinks the kingdom is doomed anyway, Jaethal is Jaethal, and Tristian..." Tristian probably should have been here. Munira had no idea why she felt slightly queasy in his presence. Priests of deities like Sarenrae didn't normally do that to her, only aasmir. "He's helping Jhod, but I can summon them both if you think it will help."

"Their first duty will be to their gods," Valerie said. "The future ruler will be for all people. I certainly hope that we didn't topple a den of lawlessness merely to establish a theocracy in its place!"

"Well, we're kind of running out of people here. Unless you're putting yourself forward…"

That brought Valerie up short. She slouched slightly, and, for the first time, Munira heard uncertainty in her voice. "I will of course serve in whatever way is required, and if that includes taking up the crown and bringing order to such chaos, then so be it. If Lady Jamandi would allow me to leave her service."

"Jamandi would be delighted," Munira said without enthusiasm. She didn't know why the Aldori were so eager to have a new barony on their border, but having a woman as loyal as Valerie in charge could only help. And she was even more beautiful than Octavia, well-spoken, a true noble, and an excellent fighter. A peasant or a tradesman would look at her and see everything that a baroness should be. And it wasn't as if she would be a tyrant.

This had always been a possibility. Munira held out the papers to her in turn. "I hope you'll consider me for a position on your council. We have a chance to build something wonderful and see that prosperity and learning come to all."

Valerie read, and Munira tried not to hold her breath. Her uncle hadn't quite been able to love her, so he had given her an education instead. Not merely in alchemy, but in economics and history and literature, every field proper to a young lady. Her world has been full of books and stories of what should be. She had had plenty of time to dream of how "should be" might become "could be."

Valerie frowned. "Low taxes in hopes of spurring economic growth, no hereditary titles, civil service exams open to everyone, free schools to prepare for those civil service exams, a comprehensive university… A kingdom might attempt one or two of these things, but all of them together would be a novelty never seen in the whole of Golarion."

"Not all novelty is bad. The barony itself is a novelty." She would not stammer. "Anything that brings peace and prosperity to the greatest number should be tried. Especially the university. There are academies of magic, true, and the University of Lepistadt has tried to bring all mundane knowledge under its banner, but they're thinking too small. The mundane and magical aren't separated by some wall. We could learn so much by combining them. Even studies of the First World and the Elemental Pl—"

"Peace, Munira. I don't deny the necessity of studying practical subjects, but the scale of this is just…" Valerie shook her head. "Some innovation might be necessary, but the usual way of doing things is usual because it works. An aristocracy, priests to teach reading and writing, perhaps a small mage quarter once our capital is of sufficient size."

"No way that's enough!" Linzi shot to her feet, shivering with emotion and excitement. "Just because you had no business serving Shelyn doesn't mean this stuff is worthless! Everyone who wants to learn should be taught whatever they want as long as it doesn't hurt other people. In fact, we should have a Academy of the Arts. Show Irovetti a real one looks like."

"And how do you propose paying for such frivolity?"

"Maybe we should get Tristian..."

As the room dissolved into argument, Munira felt her dreams of a grand kingdom slip away like smoke. Perhaps a dream was all it had ever been. Valerie would be a good baroness. She would. As long as she and Linzi could keep from killing each other in the meantime.

Munira slipped from the room while the two of them were busy shouting about the usefulness or lack thereof of poetry. It had been some time since she had needed to escape to the library, but the books were arranged just as she remembered. Treatises on the planes next to dissertations on the fey next to periodicals describing new elixers and the possibility, later refuted, of a plant that could purge the taint of the Lower Planes from a mortal. And, just at the right height for a girl of seven, books of adventure and faraway places.

Munira knelt to stroke the cracked spine of her favorite. "And in the kingdom of Lemair, a man might be whatever he pleases, be he slave or prince, no matter his father or mother, as long as his heart is true." Nothing lived without dreams. Not a seed and not her. She hadn't worked so hard merely to bring forth a copy of every patch of dirt in the River Kingdoms. She just had to find a way. Her daemon blood might disqualify her from ruling, but her role in victory might give her enough power to suggest a candidate who saw things as she did.

The door opened. Linzi's face was red. "Come quick!" she said between pants. "There are horses coming down the road. I think it's Lady Jamandi."

Jamandi? Munira frowned. They had come straight from the trading post to Restov. For Jamandi to not only hear of their victory but to not wait for them to come to her mansion… She wasn't Irovetti or even the Surtovas but it was never good to be caught in the games of the powerful. There was no escaping now, though. She stood.

The front room was still in one piece at least. Valerie's posture was somehow even more perfect and even Octavia had her hands clasped behind her back. The poor servant who had been pressed into being acting major domo opened the door with a trembling hand. "Lady Jamandi Aldori. Kassil Aldori."

Munira knelt even as she kept her eyes on the new arrivals. Jamandi looked much better than she had that terrible first night, her eyes bright and her bearing that of a woman accustomed to having her commands obeyed. Munira had never seen the half-orc with her. He was about her own age, impeccably dressed in red and black and with a dueling sword at his side. His black hair was swept away from his forehead. His bearing was no less regal than Jamandi or Valerie's. Munira stole a glance at Linzi, whose eyes were large. Her mind was probably already whirring with plans for how she could include him in her story.

"Rise, conquerors of the Stolen Lands," Jamandi said with a smile. "Rumors of your victory have already reached me. Well, rumors and a letter from Svetlana Leveston. I thought that I should be the first to congratulate you."

"We're honored, my lady," Munira said. "But this is only half our party. The others deserve your congratulation as much as we do."

"And they'll have it at the banquet I promised. I was hoping that Kassil and I could speak to you Munira." She gave Linzi and Octavia a pointed look. "Alone, if that's all right."

"Of course." What else could she say? Valerie, Octavia, Linzi, and the servant all obediently trooped out of the room, looking just as confused as she felt.

Jamandi took the chair Octavia had occupied and motioned for Munira to sit. "You haven't been introduced to Kassil, have you? He's my nephew and one of the finest graduates of the dueling school in many years and a trusted envoy when I require it."

Kassil remained standing. "Lady Jamandi does me great honor." His voice was like polished obsidian. "I serve in whatever capacity Rostland and the Aldori require."

"And service may be required of us all very soon." Jamandi leaned forward slightly. "I recognized you as a natural leader from the very beginning, and Svetlana's tale of your exploits in the Stolen Lands only confirmed my intuition. Munira, I would like to formally offer you the barony of the Shrike Hills as a vassal of Brevoy."

Breath left Munira's lungs, and she gripped the armrests to keep from collapsing. Barony…Vassal... "Are you out of your mind?" she croaked before burying her face in her hands. Wonderful, she had just called one of the most powerful people in Rostland insane. "My apologies. The last few weeks have been very stressful. But I must have misheard you. I'm not suited to be a baroness."

Jamandi made a dismissive gesture. "I can't imagine anyone more suited."

"Someone who isn't obviously part daemon. Just look at me. I'd frighten children."

"Children can be surprisingly understanding," Kassil said with a smile. "The they do ask to touch my front teeth. And there's always illusion magic if necessary."

"And you were apparently the driving force behind the victory. I meant the barony to be a prize earned with valor and skill, not a beauty contest. If I had a problem with a tiefling coming out the winner, I would have barred the doors to you." Jamandi gave her a smile of her own. "Though your uncle may have had some very strong words for me if I had tried."

Something still didn't add up. She couldn't get a position at a university, but Jamandi was willing to entrust her new state to her. "Even if the citizens didn't string me up on sight, it would never work. The Surtovas would lose their minds." Aha. That was what this was about. This new state was nothing more than another move in the game between Rostland and Issia. Valerie might be sworn to Jamandi's service, but she was a Brevan noble and the Surtovas were the acknowledged royal house. "And... that would hurt your position. Why don't you tell me exactly how you're planning to use me to get one over on the Surtovas?"

"Inelegantly put, but very astute. Your uncle was right about your intelligence." Jamandi leaned back in her chair. "The time for 'getting one over' on the Surtovas is past. Brevoy has never been a real country. Rostland must regain its independence."

No. Oh no. Brevoy had been united for centuries, but it was a young nation by Golarion standards, and the ethnic differences had never faded. Rostlanders thought Issians were near-criminal cowards, and Issians thought Rostlanders were fools obsessed with pointless honor. The Aldori had never forgotten the horror of the Valley of Fire and dreamed of restoring Rostland. That the Surtovas only retained power through a complex system of alliances and bribery of other noble houses only stoked thoughts of rebellion. The people who toasted a free and independent Rostland had never seen what a volley of flame or enchanted bow could do to another human being, what soldiers were capable of when battle must was on them.

"Now I know you must be mad. Civil wars are always the most brutal. You may win in the end, but Rostland would be lost for a generation."

"You're a Rostlander. Don't you wish for freedom?" Kassil took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. "King Noleski isn't brave or noble or anything a true ruler should be, except perhaps crafty. Even the other houses will only grant him the title of regent. Do you really wish to swear fealty to such a man?"

"I swore fealty to being a healer. Which means not watching women be raped or children be disemboweled. And Abadar help you if Noleski hires some necromancer or worse because he doesn't have dragons. If this was only a ploy to use the resources of the Stolen Lands for a war machine, find someone else to play quartermaster."

Munira's breath came in harsh pants. Years of polish and good breeding had vanished in a few moments of righteous anger. Her uncle would be furious with her. "What I mean is that I have family in both Rostland and Issia, and I've seen enough blood. I've seen atrocities in the Stolen Lands that make the slights of the Surtovas seem like nothing. Don't kill unless you have to."

Jamandi seemed suddenly older, more tired. "I don't intend to. I too have seen a man burned alive. But it's only a matter of time until Rostland and Issia go to war. Unless a neutral party were to force us to negotiate." She drummed her fingers on her knee. "I'm aware of your connections to House Olovsky and to Restov. Thad makes you an ideal mediator. Your heroics against the Stag Lord only help."

She was serious. About the war, about making the daemonspawn a baroness. "It would take years to build the Stolen Lands into a power to be reckoned with."

"I'm aware. Rostland needs that time to marshal its strength."

It was a very clever game. That was what politics was, in the end, to women like Jamandi and Natala Surtova. Munira was another piece on the board. A piece that they would both think they could use to win the game and was very likely to get Munira beheadedby one side or the other. Though, to be fair, this plan would likely get any would-be baroness killed, even if she had shining golden hair and marble skin.

Jamandi was counting on the tiefling being a loyal ally out of gratitude. The Surtovas would no doubt see her as the scion a fellow noble house. In that, perhaps, lay a chance for peace. Perhaps. "You'll have my answer by next Oathday."

"That doesn't leave much time to arrange the banquet, but I suppose that's all I can ask." Jamandi rose and after a few more pleasantries, departed alongside Kassil.

Munira didn't collapse when she got up and called that a victory. Her, a baroness. The child nobody had ever wanted. Not her parents, not her uncle, nobody until the Guardian of the Bloom. She could institute those reforms without having to convince traditionalists like Valerie. She hadn't allowed herself to dream of the coronet, but now that the chance was in front of her, it seemed tantalizingly real.

Linzi and Octavia came rushing out. Linzi threw herself at Munira with such force that she nearly knocked her over. "I told you! I told you you would be a good baroness."

"I haven't—how do you even know that?"

"Please, you don't survive slavery in Numeria without learning how to listen at the door."

"Which was very poorly done of you," Valerie said as she joined them. "Lady Aldori is placing considerable trust in you. I assume you will be accepting the honor." It wasn't a question.

"I haven't decided yet." She wanted power and had ideas about how to use it, but that didn't change the world's attitude towards tieflings or the likelihood of getting pulled into a bloody foreign crisis. Her decision would have to be taken with the care and precision of an experiment, not a reckless burst of emotion pinned to a fairytale. "I don't know if the people would accept me, and I don't know if I can stop this war."

"Of course people will accept you. You're a hero. Not being classically beautiful makes you more relatable." Linzi flushed. "No offense, Valerie."

"I'm painfully aware of the isolating effects of beauty, thank you." Valerie's voice was ice. "To answer the question, of course the people will accept you. You will be their liege."

It was that simple for them. For all their differences, Linzi and Valerie shared a burning idealism. Munira would succeed because their conception of the world demanded that she succeed. Munira's conception of the world involved rather more being pelted with rotten vegetables as an eight-year-old.

It was then that she noticed that Kassil had left his handkerchief behind. Monogrammed, red silk, like any gentleman's handkerchief. He would be wanting it back. The Aldori idea of honor was principally about dueling and receiving satisfaction for slights real and imagined, but it also wouldn't do for a gentleman to be without his handkerchief. She would bring it with her once she made up her mind.

Octavia looked out the window. "Is that Kassil Aldoi? I wonder what he wants."

Or not. Kassil Aldori strolled up the path. He was all politeness and polish as the servant readmitted him. "My apologies," he said with a bow. "I seem to have left my handkerchief here. How careless of me."

Munira's skin prickled. Careless men weren't admitted to the ranks of the Aldori. He'd probably left the handkerchief here to give himself an excuse to persuade Munira. Of course, it would be gauche to say so. She smiled. "Here you are. Give my regards to Lady Jamandi and reassure her that I'll call upon her as soon as possible._ Please go away and let me think._

"Of course. If I may though, I'm told your uncle has a fine library. I'd like to have a look, if I might. Would you do me the honor of showing it to me?"

She had tried. "It would be my pleasure."

She obediently led him to the library. To his credit, the glint in his eyes as he took in the leather volumes seemed genuine. He picked one up. _The Kingdom of Lemair._ Where a man is judged by his merits. I always liked that one."

"You have excellent taste." She stood as close to him as courtesy allowed. "But we both know that you didn't come all the way here to retrieve your handkerchief or discuss children's stories."

"Quite. This barony is of tremendous importance to Rostland and the Aldori. I'd like to see it in good hands. You've earned the right by defeating the Stag Lord. More than that, reports indicate that you're intelligent and that you have an interest in the business of governing. I did look at your scholarly articles. In short, the only thing that disqualifies you is your heritage."

"The world has never needed more than one disqualifier." She studied Kassil. All the fine clothes and noble bearing in Golarion couldn't hide orcish blood. "I daresay you know that."

"I do." His voice was quieter, graver. "I was born on the streets of Restov, and I would be little more than a common criminal if Lady Jamandi hadn't found me. Even then, taunts about how my father probably raped my mother and how the Aldori must have trained me to speak in complete sentences have dogged me all of my life."

"I'm sorry." Munira resisted the urge to put a hand on his shoulder. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that she wasn't the only person ever to be ostracized, even in relatively tolerant Brevoy. "Hence my reluctance. If people will deny a job to a tiefling scholar, what will they do to a tiefling baroness?"

"And that is why you must take up the mantle."

Munira worked her jaw. The words wouldn't come. She had already exhausted the number of ways to question Aldori sanity, in any case.

"Jamandi is a good woman, but she's never been despised for what she is," he continued. "If a place is ever carved out for tieflings, it will be because people like you have carved it. You and I have been given advantages of status that many of our races would do anything to possess. It's our duty to them to use our advantages to help them. Create a Lemair. No one else will."

The words still wouldn't come. Kassil bowed one last time. "I hope I've given you something to consider."

Munira stared at the books. Create a Lemair. As if it were truly that simple. As if any of her hopes for the barony were simple. She let out a laugh. As if defeating a bandit king to save a nymph that only she could see were simple. It was like…something out of a storybook. A heroine redeeming the name of her race in the eyes of all Golarion.

But every child needed heroes, even tieflings. She would have much to say to the Aldori tomorrow.


End file.
